


Slow and Steady

by alullabytoleaveby



Series: Emma 'verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid!Fic, M/M, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:38:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1648919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alullabytoleaveby/pseuds/alullabytoleaveby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma could never have guessed how much Cas would have wormed his way into her life all those months ago. </p>
<p>5 moments of Cas and Emma caring about each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow and Steady

It’s been one of those days where nothing’s gone right—she oversleeps, which means she winds up being late for first period, which is, of course, math with Mr. Crowley. Mr. Crowley proceeds to give her a lunch detention for her tardiness and then another one when it turns out she left her homework sitting on the kitchen table. She forgot her lunch as well and she doesn’t have money to buy anything from the cafeteria before she spends her 30 minute break clapping erasers in the math classroom, so she spends the entire day hungry. In Language Arts she fights with Krissy about whether or not Jesse likes her. One of the straps on her backpack breaks and on the way out of the building to the school bus, she trips and skins her knee. By the time she manages to get home, Emma wants to do nothing else but collapse into bed and not move.

She cries a bit into her pillow—not sobbing or anything, just some quiet weeping that no one will ever know about because Emma’s _thirteen_ and not a cry baby—until it starts to get a bit late and Emma really _should_ start on her homework. Her mother works long hours and the only reason that Emma even remotely gets away with not having a babysitter is by making sure to get all her homework done without reminding. Emma knows that if even one assignment goes uncompleted, her mom will get Becky Rosen on the line without a second thought and then Emma will have to sit through Becky reading her erotic gay fanfiction aloud while she tries to edit it.

And really, Emma would like to avoid having to hear that much purple prose if she could help it.

But instead of starting her homework—which includes a particularly long problem set on radicals and exponents that Emma _really_ doesn’t want to do—Emma checks her email. 

She’s not surprised when there’s an email from Cas. Ever since their first meeting Cas has been forwarding her news articles that are interesting, things related to movies and books she likes, and, of course, a near constant stream of cat videos on Youtube 

Emma’s not really one for animals—they’re cute, she guesses, but neither of her parents are big on the idea of pets so they’re more an abstract concept than anything else for her—but she’ll dutifully watch them (and roll her eyes a bit) so that she doesn’t have to lie when Cas asks her if she watched them. 

Tonight, though, as she clicks the video and watches the tiny kittens wobble across the screen, she doesn’t roll her eyes and groan. Instead a watery smile makes its way to her lips and hugs a pillow to her chest, giggling softly when one of the kittens falls down. The video ends and Emma finds herself clicking on the the replay button. 

Just once more, she tells herself. Homework can wait a couple more minutes.

——

Sunday is _always_ Pancake Day. Emma’s not really sure how the tradition started—it’s been something she’s done with her dad since their visitation arrangement began. On Sundays, she and Dean get up early and then they make pancakes together. They’ve gotten creative over the years too—there have been blueberry pancakes and apple cinnamon and chocolate chip ones when it’s an extra special occasion. But since Cas moved in with Dean, he’s mostly stayed out of their way, only sporadically making it downstairs in time to grab a couple of pancakes before they’re all gone. Cas is not a morning person and without two cups of coffee, it’s almost impossible to get anything other than a glare and a grunt out of him.

So Emma’s wondering if she’s hallucinating, dreaming, or maybe hit her head somewhere when she comes downstairs early and sees Cas at the stove frantically waving the spatula over a smoking griddle.

“Dude, _what_ are you doing?” And Cas jumps about two feet in the air, whirling around, his face red with embarrassment. 

“It’s Sunday,” he responds, by way of an explanation. Emma squints.

“It is,” she cautiously confirms. 

“You and Dean make pancakes.” Emma nods. Cas shrugs. “I just…it’s been a very long week for your father so I reset his alarm and thought I’d make the pancakes instead. So he could sleep.” It’s sweet, really. Emma’s pretty sure it’s going to give her a cavity. She grabs the spatula out of his hand, pushes past Cas, and flips the burning pancake into the trash.

“Go get yourself a cup of coffee. I’ll take over until then.” Cas sighs with relief, almost tripping over his own two feet in his haste to pour coffee into his mug. Emma pours some more batter on the griddle and waits for the pancake to brown on one side before flipping it. Cas comes back and stands next to Emma at the stove and tries to take the spatula back from her but she won’t let him.

“I think it’s best if you let me handle the cooking for now. You’re clearly not in any shape to be handling a hot stove.” Cas laughs and pats her shoulder. He hangs back, leaning against the counter to sip his coffee and supervise. 

When Dean wanders down the stairs in his boxers and sleepily rubbing his eyes a half hour later, she and Cas are sitting at the table, eating the fruits of Emma’s labor. Dean blinks, disbelief crossing his face for a second, before it’s replaced with a big grin.

“You two started without me,” he whines playfully as he heads to take his seat at the kitchen table. Emma rolls her eyes.

“It’s not my fault that you were still sleeping.”

“No,” Dean agrees, “it’s not. It’s Cas’.” Cas shrugs at the accusation, unbothered.

“You needed the rest.” Dean huffs but leans over and kisses Cas lightly on the lips. Emma groans.

“Could you at least put on some pants before you start making out with your boyfriend in front of me?” Dean laughs as he pulls away from Cas.

“Sure thing, Emster.” He ruffles her hair on his way back out of the kitchen. Cas can’t help but smile at the disgruntled look on Emma’s face.

——

Emma groans and curls in tighter on herself on the shitty cot in the nurses office, desperately trying to not puke her guts up again. Everything hurts and she feels hot one minute and cold the next and if she moves her head even the slightest bit, the world goes slightly dizzy and the next thing she knows she’s vomiting into a bowl. She’s so sick that even Nurse Masters is looking at her with pity when she comes to check on her.

“I called your mom, but she’s in a meeting right now and can’t get away,” she tells Emma, putting the back of her hand on Emma’s forehead. It’s a pointless action—anyone who even takes a look at Emma would know that she’s still feverish. Emma knows her mom can’t come get her, though. Her mom’s been prepping for this big presentation at work all week and it could mean a promotion for her. It’s the reason why, when her mom woke her up this morning, Emma didn’t tell her that she was feeling so sick. Emma was really hoping that she could just last out the day, go to bed early, and wake up tomorrow feeling better. Then no one would be inconvenienced by her, her mom would get her promotion, and Emma wouldn’t have embarrassed herself in front of her entire class by puking down the front of her clothes in gym.

“I couldn’t get ahold of your father,” Nurse Masters continues. “But I left him a message. So hopefully, someone will come get you soon and take you home.” She places a glass of water on the rickety table next to her cot and goes back into her office. Emma’s almost thankful for it, but she knows if she drinks it, it’s just going to come back up. Instead, she closes her eyes, tries to keep her breath steady, and forces herself to sleep.

She’s not sure how long she’s passed out for when she wakes to the feel of a hand comfortingly petting her hair. She makes a noise in the back of her throat—something between a moan and whimper—and blinks blearily back to consciousness. Cas is perched on her cot, smiling at her.

She must be giving him a confused look because, unprompted, he tells her, “Dean couldn’t get away from the shop; they’re already backed up for the day as it is. I’m done for the day, though, so I said I’d take you home.” Unbidden, tears well up in Emma’s eyes and she sniffs, hoping to ward them off. The last thing she needs is to start crying on top of everything else today. But Cas is _here_. Someone came for her. And Emma wants to wrap her arms around Cas’s middle and never let go. He helps her sit up, careful not to jostle her too much, and swing her legs around so she can stand. She’s clearly unsteady on her own feet, and Cas wraps an arm around her to help support her. Almost immediately, she leans into his side; he rubs his hand down her back, the gesture soothing.  

“I’m taking Emma home now,” Cas informs the nurse. “Thank you, Nurse Masters, for taking care of her until I could get here.”  

“It was no trouble,” the nurse says with a predatory smile and Emma clings tighter to Cas. “And please, call me Meg.” Cas raises his eyebrows, skeptical and a little confused by the invitation, but he shepherds Emma out the door instead of responding.  

Emma spends the drive home with her head pressed against the window, the coolness of it feeling nice on her overly warm skin. Cas peers at her at every stop light, concerned, but he doesn’t ask her dumb questions like how she’s feeling, if she needs anything, or if she’s going to puke. Emma’s thankful; she really can’t handle answering anything right now. 

At home, Cas helps her into bed, tucks the covers around her and leaves her to rest. She sleeps for the rest of the afternoon and when she wakes up this time, it’s evening and the smell of tomato rice soup floats through the house. Just as she’s sitting up, Dean pushes her door open, a bowl in one hand and a glass of water and some meds in the other.

“Hey Sleeping Beauty, feeling better?” he asks her. Emma shrugs.

“A little,” she admits; sleeping really did help and she no longer feels like she’s going to throw up. “Did you make soup?” Dean shakes his head. 

“Cas did. From scratch, too.” He glances over his shoulder at the empty doorway before turning back to Emma and whispering, “He says he just had some time on his hands, but I think it’s ‘cause he was worried about you.” Emma takes the bowl with a small smile and if she flushes, well, she can always just chalk it up to the fact that she has a fever.

——

It took two busses, a twenty minute walk, and having to ask directions three times before Emma finds Cas’ office. But now that she’s finally found it, she’s too afraid to knock. She knows that she shouldn’t bother Cas at work, that a phone call would have worked just as well, but she’d been so _frustrated_ by everything that before she knew it, she was getting on the city bus towards the college.

She takes a deep breath and tightens her fist, crumpling the paper she has in her hands. It’s her latest math test and it has a bright red D marked across the first page. Emma doesn’t know what happened. She understands the material, she does her homework and it’s mostly correct, but when it comes time for the test, she forgets _everything_. She doesn’t understand what’s wrong and she doesn’t know how to fix it.

But Cas might.

Cas always has the answer. He’s answered every question she’s had about math and never made her feel stupid or dumb for not understanding right away. He’s patient and kind and he solves problems. 

Mustering all her courage, she knocks lightly on the door, waiting with bated breath. There’s a good chance that Cas isn’t in—he could have a class or be at a department meeting (which Emma _knows_ he hates because he does nothing but complain about them at home) or a million other places.

But she hears the muffled, “Come in!” a second later and, relief flooding through her, she turns the knob and pushes the door open.

Cas’ office is small and the walls are lined with bookshelves. Some are filled to the brim with books, others have picture frames in them. Some are of Cas’ family, there’s at least four of her father, and there, sitting right smack in the middle of the shelf, is one of her. It’s an old picture, one that was taken by Dean over the summer at the pool. Emma’s wearing sunglasses with red frames in the shape of hearts and sticking out her tongue at the camera. Her dad must have given it to him, which means that Cas must’ve _asked_ for it. It makes something warm and happy twist in her.

Cas himself is sitting behind his desk and he’s not alone. There’s another younger blonde haired man sitting across from him. He’s probably a student and Emma flushes with shame that she’s interrupted something. It’s probably important; at least, it’s definitely more important than Emma’s poor grade on her math test. 

“Emma?” Emma hunches in on herself, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll go.”

“No!” Cas insists, standing up and rushing the small distance to the door before she can flee. “Please, come in. Is everything alright?” Emma shakes her head because no, everything is not alright. She hands Cas her test and looks down at the carpet, not wanting to see the wave of disappointment on his face. 

“Oh,” he says after a moment, but nothing else. Instead, he brings his hand to Emma’s shoulder, squeezes lightly, and steers her into the room. He sits her down in the second chair on the other side of the desk, next to his student, before walking around to his chair. 

“Samandriel, this is my step daughter, Emma. I hope you don’t mind?” The boy gives her a kind smile.

“Not at all, Professor Novak,” he leans down and starts to gather up his things. “We were just about done anyways. I’ll email you if I have anymore questions.”

“Please,” Cas dismisses and then it’s just him and Emma alone in the office. 

“Mr. Crowley’s going to let me take a retest,” Emma murmurs and that’s the worst part of it really. Emma’s doing so bad that even mean old Mr. Crowley is trying to help her raise her grade.

“When?”

“Tomorrow, after school.” Cas nods and studies the test.

“Okay then, let’s go through this and figure out where you went wrong.”He looks up and gives her a reassuring smile. “It’s going to be okay, Em.”

——

It’s after the award ceremony that Cas and Dean find her in the throng of athletes on the field. Her mom’s already standing with her, having given her a congratulations and a kiss to the forehead over the fact that she has the first place medal around her neck. Emma’s been running track for two years now and this is the first time she’s _ever_ come in first. She’s grinning like an idiot and runs to her dad, hugging him tight. 

“Dad, I _won_!” He laughs and twirls her around. 

“I saw! You did great, Em, seriously.” He pulls back and then it’s Cas’ turn to hug her.

“It was a great race, Emma,” he tells her, “I’m so proud of you.” Emma squeezes back extra tight and buries her face in Cas’ shoulder. She could never have guessed how much Cas would have wormed his way into her life all those months ago. Back then, she was just waiting for Cas to realize that her and Dean were just too much trouble and to move on. But he hasn’t. Cas is a constant in her life now and she can’t imagine it without him.  

“Thanks, Cas.” And Cas is great at picking up on the subtext, knows that she’s thanking him for more than just this moment. He kisses the side of her head.

“You’re welcome,” he tells her as he lets go, his smile sincere and genuine. “Really.”

“Who’s up for ice cream?” Dean asks, beaming. Emma looks to her mother who smiles her consent before she nods enthusiastically. The three of them make their way, hand in hand, to the Impala and Emma puts all her effort into remembering just how happy she is in this moment.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for all the support I got on Teenage Feeling. This is a small, disjointed continuation, but I really wanted to have a (happy) look at Cas and Emma's relationship. I have one more story planned for this little series that will focus mostly on Dean and Emma. I can make absolutely no promises as to when it will be posted. Thanks for reading :).


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